Two For the Price of One
by akane47
Summary: Fashion arbiter Gu Yong-ha's latest client is clearly in dire need of his services. However, beneath her drab exterior hides a secret that teaches him to stop judging by appearances... and consider the possibility that one woman may be all he really needs.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_.

**Author's Notes:** This story focuses on Gu Yong-ha and is a sequel of sorts to my previous SKKS fic, _Taming the Crazy Horse_. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed that one! I hope you will enjoy this and my other works as well.

**TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE**

_Prologue_

Unlike his hyung, the little boy found it impossible to sit still.

His father tried everything: extra lessons, extended naps, even punishments; but the boy was a quick study and made short work of his lessons, he refused to sleep when he wasn't tired, and his notoriously softhearted mother put a quick end to the punishments. It wasn't that the boy was bad, she rightly pointed out. He was just active and curious about everything, as many children were wont to be.

That day, he sped through his arithmetic lessons as he usually did (getting everything right, of course—a good head for numbers ran in the family), drove his tutor to distraction by asking one impossible question after another, and ran away to hide once his studies were over for the day. His lessons were normally followed by nap time, and he knew that the servants couldn't force him to take a nap if they couldn't find him.

He took refuge in one of the seldom-used rooms in the house, but that quickly lost its appeal when he found that there was nothing to do in there. Besides, he reasoned as he stole out of his hiding place, they wouldn't be able to catch him if he kept moving.

* * *

Eventually, the boy found his way to a room near the servants' quarters. It was usually empty, but someone was in there that day. He listened for a moment to the humming and, not recognizing the voice as belonging to any of the maids, cautiously peeked inside.

An old woman sat beside the window, rummaging through a jumble of brightly colored threads in the basket next to her. From where he knelt by the door, he could see that instead of doing boring old sewing, she was making a picture of what looked like a flower on the cloth on her lap.

He watched the old woman cut a length of orange thread and, eyes narrowed in concentration, attempt to thread her needle. After a few moments, he could tell that she was having trouble accomplishing the task.

"I can do that, Halmeonim," he blurted out.

For a while, he feared that she would shoo him away like the kitchen ahjummas did whenever they found him underfoot, but the old woman looked up and smiled. "Oh, could you? That would be a very big help." She held out the needle and thread towards him. "I'm afraid these old eyes aren't what they used to be."

The boy scrambled inside. He took the needle carefully and had it threaded in moments. "Thank you, young master," the old woman said when he returned the prepared needle to her.

"Maybe I should stay here for now," he suggested. "You might need to thread more needles." Besides, he really wanted to see that she was doing.

She laughed when she saw that he was already making himself comfortable beside her. "If you like."

"Oh, I do like!" he answered, favoring her with a brilliant smile (a weapon that he already knew how to use with devastating effect, even at his tender age) now that he got what he wanted. They couldn't make him take a nap now. She said he could stay, and she was old and probably needed a lot of help.

* * *

The old woman's heart was light on her journey home that evening. She had accomplished a lot, even with the little boy watching over her shoulder practically the whole time—he was indeed helpful in threading the needles, and provided amusement with all his questions. Besides that, the lady of the house paid well, which was important now that she and her husband had two more mouths to feed.

Her smile faded slightly. Of course, there had been no question about taking their daughter, Seol-hee, and Seol-hee's infant daughter in to live with them, but she couldn't help wishing that Seol-hee had returned under happier circumstances.

The old woman and her husband had had serious misgivings when their only child announced that she wanted to be married. Though well-to-do, her intended was much older than she and had been married twice before. The girl had been adamant, however, fancying herself in love; and now she was back, sent away in disgrace after her last futile attempt to give her husband another son.

Seol-hee's daughter, barely two years old, had paid the price, too. Her father already had a number of grown children, all but one of them daughters, from his other wives; what use did he have for another girl?

The old woman set her jaw at the thought. She and her husband had vowed to do right by their daughter and granddaughter from the moment when mother and child turned up at their door. Someone had to do it; and with Seol-hee eating little and spending her days sitting by the door as if waiting for her husband to come and fetch her home, it was clear that she was unable to contribute.

Fortunately, there was still a lot that the old woman and her husband could do. It had been easy enough for them to add the baby to the family registry; and not only were they still strong enough to make a living, but their work allowed them to help look after the child. They were getting on in years and definitely not as wealthy than the baby's father, but others had gotten by with less.

They would manage, the old woman told herself as she trudged the rest of the way home.

One way or another.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_, and the name "Gu Jun-pyo" to the writers of _Boys Over Flowers_ – I couldn't resist using it :-p

* * *

_Chapter One_

_Joseon, 1800_

It was shaping up to be a typical day at Gu Yong-ha's shop. Such a day might have been considered extraordinary by the average person, but then the most popular merchant of luxury fabrics and clothing in all of Joseon was hardly average.

He began by turning away a prospective client. The woman was a young gisaeng seeking to transform herself into the new Cho-sun; unfortunately, a few moments' perusal of her charms was enough to tell Yong-ha that not only was she too traditional-looking to do his creations justice, but also that her chances of eclipsing the greatest gisaeng in a generation were slim at best.

After that, he took a leisurely mid-morning break and, his belly pleasantly full of tea and honey-sesame cakes, accepted an order for a dozen new hanboks from a long-standing yangban customer. The lady was a favorite because she completely trusted him completely in his choice of colors and fabrics, recommended him highly to all of her fashion-forward friends, and had all the latest, juiciest gossip about Joseon's upper crust.

He was preparing to close up his shop for another short break when an old woman appeared at the door. "Excuse me," she inquired, "but is this the shop of Gu Yong-ha?"

Something about her low, quelruous voice was familiar, and after peering at her for a brief moment, Yong-ha broke into a broad grin. "Halmeonim!" he greeted her warmly. "Please, do come in!"

The new arrival was Park Kyung-cha, who used to sew and do embroidery for his mother. In his opinion, Madam Park was an unknown legend; although her husband, the embroidery artist Kim Ok-boon, was talented in his own right, she had been responsible for some of the pieces sold under his name. Yong-ha believed that she could have made a name for herself, too, if she hadn't gone blind not long after Master Kim's death.

He took Madam Park's arm and led her carefully into his shop. There was a look of wonder on her face as she stepped inside. "It feels very spacious in here," she observed. "You must be doing well for yourself."

"I get by," Yong-ha replied modestly.

"Come here and let me have a look at you." The old woman reached up and he leaned over obligingly to allow her to skim her fingers gently over his face. "My, what a handsome man you've become!"

Ordinarily, he would have responded to such by saying something like _When have I not been handsome?_ but he knew that the praise was genuine and thus merited a proper answer. "Thank you, Halmeonim," he said sincerely. "And it's wonderful to see you, too. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Oh, yes!" The question seemed to remind her of something, and she looked unseeingly over her shoulder in the direction of the door, beside which stood a young woman and a burly, middle-aged man. "Iseul, could you come here, please?"

"Yes, Halmeonim," the woman replied, coming forward obediently.

She touched Madam Park's arm as she approached, and the old woman laid a hand over hers. "Do you remember my granddaughter, Kim Iseul?" Madam Park asked Yong-ha.

"Ah, yes!" His gaze flickered briefly over her as they exchanged bows of greeting. He vaguely remembered a quiet, colorless little girl tagging along with her grandmother during her later visits to Gu residence; it seemed that things had changed little in the intervening years. "How are you, Miss Kim? It's nice to see you again."

"It's _Teacher_ Kim now," her grandmother said with obvious pride. "Iseul teaches painting to a number of children from good families."

"Is that right?" He smiled sociably when Iseul gave an awkward bob of her head, which he interpreted as a nod. "Well, congratulations, Teacher Kim. How nice for you."

"Thank you," she replied in a quiet voice.

Yong-ha waited for a moment, in case she wanted to say more, and took over again when he realized that that was all they were going to get out of her. "Why don't we all sit down?" he suggested briskly. "I'll send for some tea and snacks, and we can have a nice chat."

* * *

Yong-ha's staff, accustomed to helping entertain clients at the shop, quickly brought refreshments. With the help of Madam Park's male companion, who appeared to be a servant judging from his clothing, they set up the low tea table and dispensed food and drink. The manservant nodded in acknowledgment of Yong-ha's thanks, then settled himself in one corner as the ladies conversed with their host.

"Now," Yong-ha said, arranging the folds of his saffron-colored overcoat to display its embroidery to the best effect, "to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"We are here on Iseul's account, actually," Madam Park began, reaching out to touch her granddaughter's hand again as if to reassure herself that she was still there. "She has just come into an inheritance from her late father's family. It's not a large amount, but now that she has a dowry, she has a better chance of attracting a husband."

A second glance at the woman only served to reinforce his conclusion that there was nothing distinctive about Kim Iseul. She was neither petite and doll-like, nor tall and striking; she had nondescript black hair scraped back into a braid, and a rather prim little mouth; and, worst of all, she seemed to have a terrible habit of stealing her grandmother's clothes, for she was plainly dressed in dark blue and gray. (Also, were those—horror of horrors—_dog hairs _on her skirt?!) He was willing to admit that the woman did have one beauty in her clear, pale complexion—it was just as good as his own, which was saying a lot—but he doubted whether that would be enough to help her catch a man.

"I see," he said noncommittally.

"I thought that it would be wise to invest in some fine new clothes," the old woman continued. "To catch the young men's eyes, you understand. I heard that you make the best clothing in Joseon, so here we are! Of course," she added diffidently, "I'm sure you have many other clients, so we'll understand if you're too busy to take us on; won't we, Iseul?"

Iseul nodded, but Yong-ha would hear none of it. "Perish the thought, Halmeonim! It would be a privilege to have Teacher Kim as a client. You're one of the people who inspired me to get into this business, you know, and it would be poor thanks to turn you away." _Especially, _he couldn't help thinking, _when the woman needs my services so badly._

Both women bowed their heads gratefully. "Thank you, Yong-ha," Madam Park said as her granddaughter murmured her own thanks. An impish smile broke over her lined face. "I must admit that it's nice to know that answering a young boy's thousands of questions paid off in the end."

He chuckled. "You were always very patient with me."

"Now, I know that we should give you a deposit to seal our agreement, but Iseul won't start to actually receive her inheritance until—did they say later this week, my dear?" she asked her granddaughter.

"Yes, Halmeonim."

"Until later this week," Madam Park repeated to Yong-ha. She pulled out her purse, which was old and tellingly thin, and absently ran her fingers over the peony design embroidered upon it. "We can give you a small payment if you require it, but I hope you won't mind that it won't be much."

"There's no need for that, Halmeonim," Yong-ha assured her. "We can wait until the funds arrive." He paused delicately. "But, ah... do we know how much we have to spend on our new wardrobe?"

Surprisingly, this time, it was Iseul who spoke. "We're still thinking about it," she said. Her voice remained quiet, but her tone was certain rather than evasive. "It would be pleasant to spend all of my inheritance on new clothes, but I would like to save some of the money."

"I understand. That is very practical of you, Teacher, Kim," he commended her with an approving nod. "Well, we can talk about the budget when you have decided.

"Perhaps we can discuss colors and fabrics then, too?" he suggested. "I'm afraid I have another business appointment elsewhere shortly, and we'll cover more ground when we have a better idea of the budget, anyway."

"Yes, of course," Madam Park readily agreed. "We wouldn't want to keep you from your appointments. We will send word to you through Chin-hae here—Chin-hae, where are you?"

"Right here, madam," the manservant rumbled from his corner.

"Chin-hae will bring you a message when Iseul has decided on a budget," the old woman told Yong-ha. "We will agree then on when our next meeting will be."

* * *

After bidding the ladies farewell, Yong-ha closed up his shop for the day to go to his "business appointment." Occasionally, that meant a visit to the finest gisaeng house in town, but that day he did have some actual business to conduct—he was going to Master Hwang's bookshop to pick up his latest acquisition, and he was very excited about it.

On his way to Hwang's, he made a point of walking past his competitors' establishments, exchanging pleasantries with some of the older merchants and greeting the more disagreeable ones with smug little smiles. The better merchants sold wares of the same quality as his, but they lacked his flair for design and way with customers. Yong-ha didn't try to tell them what they should buy, but rather guided them in every step of the way towards finding the perfect outfit; furthermore, he always took the time to gossip, flatter them outrageously, or listen sympathetically to their troubles. A visit to Gu Yong-ha's shop wasn't just a business transaction, his most loyal clients declared; it was an _experience_.

Master Hwang was standing by the door of his shop when Yong-ha arrived. "Ah, Master Gu!" he greeted the younger man. "I've been expecting you! Come in, come in!"

Yong-ha smiled stiffly at the effusive greeting. "Good day, Master Hwang," he replied, his tone much more subdued. "I'm already here; there's no need to shout. In fact, it might be better if you didn't."

The bookseller caught himself. "Oh, that's right," he said, lowering his voice as well and closing one eye in an exagerrated wink. "I forgot. I'm sorry. Come in, it's in the back."

Even though Hwang's looks, reputation, and establishment were all a little seedy, Yong-ha couldn't help admiring the other merchant's strong entrepreneurial bent. Master Hwang sold practically every book known in Joseon (even when he wasn't supposed to, as in the case of the naughty books that Yong-ha still bought from him); continued to do a brisk business providing the names, genealogies and room assignments of eligible Sungkyunkwan University scholars to smitten young people during Open House days; and even hosted special events inside his shop to entice potential customers inside.

All of that probably already earned him a pretty penny, but recently, the bookseller had also branched out into art brokerage, which made it possible for Yong-ha to acquire his latest treasure—a painting by one of his favorite artists, who went by the name of "Hwa-jae." Yong-ha had first noticed Hwa-jae's work in an erotic novel and was struck by the artist's use of sinuous lines, especially in his renderings of the female form, and attention to detail. He had a standing order at Hwang's for any books featuring Hwa-jae's illustrations, and jumped at the chance when he found out that the artist had begun accepting commissions.

"It's right here, sir," Master Hwang told him, proffering a bamboo tube, one long and wide enough to comfortably hold a good-sized, rolled-up piece of paper.

Yong-ha pulled off the top of the tube and gently drew out the paper inside. He unfurled it reverently and was admiring the vivid coloring when he became aware of heavy, not-quite fragrant breath wafting over the back of his neck. He turned to the other merchant with a frown, rubbing fastidiously at the back of his collar.

"So sorry," the bookseller said, stepping away hastily. "I was... curious."

Yong-ha was sure that Hwang had already stolen a look at the painting the moment it arrived, but decided not to pursue the matter. "Well, everything seems to be in order," he said instead as he rolled up the painting and replaced it in the tube.

"You are pleased with it, then?" the other merchant asked him.

"Of course. It's beautiful, and it's a Hwa-jae original." He wished that he could look at the painting some more, but he could hardly enjoy doing so in a place like this. It was best to get out of here quickly.

From his sleeve, Yong-ha withdrew a purse that was plainer, but also much fatter and heavier than Madam Park's had been."Seventy-five yang, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

He handed a string of coins to Master Hwang, and tossed another one after them. "For your trouble."

The bookseller's face lit up as he caught the coin. "Thank you, sir," he said with a humble bow. He already stood to receive a commission for the sale, but any additional income from the transaction was a welcome surprise. "And would you be interested in placing another order?"

There was no doubt about that, but Yong-ha knew better than to show right away that he was interested and risk raising the price. "I might," he replied coolly. "I'll let you know."

* * *

After making his purchase, Yong-ha took it straight home and had just managed to smuggle it into his room when a maid informed him that it was time for dinner. He groaned inwardly, wanting nothing more than to enjoy his new treasure in private, but replied that he would join the rest of the family shortly. If he asked to eat in his room, his mother would no doubt descend upon him, demanding to know if he was sick.

The rest of the family was already there when he entered the dining room. Seated at the head of the table was his father, Gu Jun-pyo, who surveyed his domain in the manner befitting one of the richest men in Joseon. On his left sat Yong-ha's mother, Hong Jin-ae; on the right were Yong-ha's much older brother, An-jeong, and An-jeong's mousy little wife, whose name Yong-ha could never seem to remember.

Master Gu spotted his younger son and gave him a frown. "So good of you to join us," he remarked dryly. He and the rest of the family were already eating—"time is money," one of their ancestors was said to be fond of saying. One did not become wealthy by just sitting around and waiting for everything to come to him.

"I had business in town, Abeonim," he replied, taking his customary seat beside Madam Hong, who gave him a fond smile before returning to her conversation about housework with An-jeong's wife.

"What sort of business would that be? I passed by your shop this early afternoon and it was closed."

Yong-ha was spared from having to scramble for a story when his brother unwittingly threw him a lifeline. "It might have something to do with that Chamber of Commerce that the merchants and guilds are planning to form," An-jeong volunteered.

"Ah, yes!" Yong-ha confirmed, nodding. "Exactly!"

His father looked skeptical, as he always did when the topic of the Joseon Chamber of Commerce was brought up. "I still can't understand why you're spending so much time on that thing."

"I think it's going to become very important, Abeonim," An-jeong said. "Everyone in the marketplace is very excited about the idea, and it's a good thing that Yong-ha can be involved on behalf of our family."

Yong-ha gave his hyung a grateful look. "Working on this together will help everyone learn to trust each other," he explained to their father, "and that should be better for doing business, won't it? Besides, if the businessmen and workers are all united, it just might give us a greater voice with the new king." King Sun-jo had recently succeeded his father, Jeong-jo, as ruler of Joseon, and all recognized that this was a prime opportunity to help shape the future of the kingdom.

Master Gu didn't look convinced, but he growled, "As long as your business doesn't suffer, and you don't do anything stupid to shame the family, I suppose it will be all right."

Resisting the temptation to bolt down his dinner and risk inviting more observations (and questions) about his behavior, Yong-ha forced himself to eat apace with the rest. He even let his father finish ahead of him, and once Master Gu was done, Yong-ha excused himself and hastened back to his bedroom, where he lost no time in locking the door and producing the painting from its hiding place.

If he was riveted by the illustrations in his books, which were pale reproductions of Hwa-jae's work, then the genuine article fairly took his breath away. Yong-ha had ordered a painting of a female nude, and the clarity of the lines defining her form and the richness of the colors in her skin made him almost sure that he could see her breathing. In addition, Hwa-jae had chosen to paint the woman sleeping, apparently after a most satisfying romp with a lover—an intimate pose that spoke to a viewer on an emotional level in the same way that his artistry appealed to the intellect, and took the piece from plain pornography to a work of erotic art.

A smile touched Yong-ha's lips as he drank in the sight of the Hwa-jae original for a second time. "And best of all," he murmured, lightly brushing his thumb over the tiny stylized flame painted discreetly into the corner, "it's one of a kind, and it's all mine."


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_.

**Author's Note:** Thank you very much to R Unworldly for the review!

* * *

_Chapter Two_

While Yong-ha made his way to the bookseller's, Iseul, her grandmother, and their servant were walking towards their home in the artisans' section of the city. Their neighborhood was not rich, but it was respectable, quiet, and safe. The residents were generally too devoted to their work to meddle in each others' business, and had few valuables other than the tools of their respective trades, which were of little interest to thieves and other criminal elements.

Madam Park smiled as she walked down the street on her granddaughter's arm, confident that even though she couldn't see where she was going, Iseul wouldn't let her fall. "It smells like autumn is coming," she remarked, taking a deep breath. The usual miasma of city living didn't hang as heavily in the air these days; the winter winds sweeping down from the north were beginning to fight back.

"It _is_ getting colder," Iseul confirmed, and chuckled. "Perhaps you should become a perfumer instead, Halmeonim. Even though you can't see, your sense of smell is remarkable."

Her grandmother laughed. "I'll think about that if I ever have to start working again," she replied, "but fortunately, it doesn't look like I do, thanks to your father's change of heart.

"I actually wrote to him when I started going blind," she confided. "I asked him to provide even just a small amount for you, reminding him that you were his daughter and he was responsible for you. When he died without saying or doing anything, I thought he had forgotten, but now I see he heeded my request after all. I'm so glad." Madam Park smiled and patted Iseul's hand. "Soon, you'll be able to stop working, and marry and have a family of your own."

Iseul gave the aged hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, Halmeonim," she agreed, even as she exchanged glances with Chin-hae, who was walking behind them.

Only they knew that Iseul's father, Ma Hong-do, had replied to the request with a strongly worded denial, and had agreed to let Madam Park go on thinking that he had simply neglected to answer the letter. At the time, she was still reeling from the loss of Iseul's grandfather, and they feared that another upset would kill her.

The truth, therefore, was that Iseul did not have an inheritance. She had simply just figured out a way to earn some more money.

* * *

After leaving Madam Park at home and in the care of Chin-hae's wife, who was also the Kims' cook-housekeeper, and Kyeo-ul, the family dog, Iseul and Chin-hae then set off for the Bang residence. The Bangs, a chungin family of modest wealth and importance, lived in a slightly more affluent part of town. The daughter of the house was one of Iseul's students.

Chin-hae waited with Iseul at the gate until a maid came to accompany her inside. The manservant bowed as he took his leave. "Have a good lesson, agasshi."

"Thank you, Chin-hae," she replied. "Please come back for me in two hours, after you have finished your errands."

"I will."

After pausing to make sure her clothes were free of dog hair, Iseul stepped through the gate and followed the maid—a different one from last time, but they were all young and silent—into the house. The Bangs' home wasn't particularly opulent and she was generally treated with stiff formality even by the servants, but Iseul loved coming there to give painting lessons.

The first reason was because her student, Bang Jung-hwa, was a sweet young girl, and one of the few in residence who treated Iseul like a friend. "Seonsaengnim!" she chirped happily when Iseul was escorted to the room where their lessons were conducted. Instead of paper, brushes and paints, a dish of sliced pears sat on the low table in front of her. "Come, let's eat!"

"You go ahead," she demurred, glancing sideways at the maid still hovering in the doorway. "I'll get our things ready while you have your snack."

"But, seonsaengnim," her student replied with a little pout, "I can't eat all of this by myself. You must help me or else it will go to waste."

Iseul smiled self-consciously. "Well, if you insist." Even though she could now accept the offer without losing face, she still felt uneasy accepting the treats that Jung-hwa pressed on her, especially in front of the servants. She couldn't afford to have the people in _this_ house, of all places, thinking that she was shirking her duties, and frittering away the Bangs' time and money.

The girl dismissed the maid with an order to bring them drinks, and the painting lesson started off the way it always did, with a snack and Jung-hwa chattering about her day. As with the refreshments, the conversation made Iseul uncomfortable, but she nevertheless let the girl talk all she wanted because she had an ulterior motive for doing so—she was hoping to catch tidbits of gossip about the rest of the family, and one family member in particular.

The object of her ulterior motive (and the other main reason why she enjoyed coming to the Bang residence) made his appearance as teacher and student worked their way through their tea and fruit. Just as she had earlier, Jung-hwa beamed at the sight of the new arrival. "Orabeoni! I thought you were supposed to come back tomorrow!"

Bang Jung-soo, a good-looking, affable young man about Iseul's age, smiled at his sister. "My business trip ended early," he replied. "There was no reason to stay, and every reason to come back." He bowed politely to his sister's teacher. "Hello, Teacher Kim."

She returned the courtesy, hoping that she didn't look as flustered as she felt. "Hello, Master Bang." At least her voice didn't sound shaky or breathless.

"Have you eaten?" Jung-hwa asked him. "You must join us and have some fruit and tea."

Her brother answered that he would he happy to, and sat down between them at the table. "How are my sister's lessons coming along?" he asked Iseul in a conversational tone.

"Very well, sir," she answered diplomatically. To be honest, it always took a certain degree of effort to get Jung-hwa to concentrate on her lessons, but the girl was also good-hearted and eager to make friends that it was difficult to say anything bad about her. "The young lady is a most enthusiastic student."

Jung-hwa ducked her head modestly. "My paintings still aren't very good," she confessed.

"They will improve," Iseul assured her. "You must work hard at your craft, that's all."

"Listen to your teacher, Jung-hwa," Jung-soo advised. "She knows what she is talking about."

As he spoke, he glanced at Iseul and gave her a comradely smile. She smiled back, feeling her cheeks grow warm but willing herself to remain calm and poised. It appeared that after weeks of trying to subtly place herself in Bang Jung-soo's sights, she had finally made an impression on him, and a favorable one at that. She wasn't going to destroy that by acting like a giddy young miss; especially not now, when she had the wherewithal to go forward in her plan to win his heart.

* * *

Master Hwang had just closed up for the day when he heard a rapping noise near the back of the shop. "Right on time, as always," he murmured. It was a shame that Hwa-jae was so prompt when collecting payments. Holding a money bag heavy with coins was a simple joy that the bookseller did not experience often enough.

The money always changed hands at the bookshop's rear door, which faced a deserted building that had once been a basket weaver's shop. Even though it was very dim in the narrow alley between the two structures, the people who took turns coming for the payments—sometimes it was a large man, other times a young woman or an ahjumma—always took care to keep their faces in shadow. Hwang thought this entire business of concealing identities was a little overwrought, but supposed artists were allowed their little eccentricities.

Hwang found the man standing at the door. (Once, the bookseller had made the mistake of trying to sneak a peek at his face, and got his ears boxed for his troubles. Hwang's head still rang whenever he thought about it.)

"Good evening, sir," he greeted the new arrival. "I have your payment right here."

He held out the money bag to his visitor, who took it with a grunt of thanks. All of Hwa-jae's agents tended to say very little, speaking only when it was important.

"All three paintings were picked up today," Hwang went on over the quiet clink of coins being counted. "The buyers were well pleased and indicated they might order more."

"Indicated," the other man repeated.

"Yes. I shall let you know when they actually place their orders."

He grunted again, then put the money away with a curt nod of satisfaction.

It was a sign that the man was preparing to take his leave. "It was a pleasure, as always, to do business with you," Master Hwang said by way of farewell.

The other man nodded again. "Good night."

The bookseller watched his mysterious visitor vanish into the growing darkness. The women he disregarded, but he used to wonder whether the man who came to collect the payments was Hwa-jae himself. After the time he got his ears boxed, Hwang concluded that the man was too ham-handed to be responsible for such delicate works of art.

* * *

"Did you have a good lesson, agasshi?"

Iseul smiled at Chin-hae as she approached the gate to the Bang estate, where he waited in order to escort her home. "Yes, thank you," she replied. "It went very well."

She bade farewell to the servant who had accompanied her from the house and waited until she and Chin-hae had proceeded some distance before speaking again. "Did you get my 'inheritance' from Master Hwang?" she asked him, her voice low so that it wouldn't carry in the still night air.

They had been doing business with the bookseller for years now, ever since Iseul had hit on the idea of drawing illustrations for erotic texts, but Chin-hae was still uneasy about discussing their dealings with him. The servant cleared his throat before mumbling, "Yes, agasshi. Two hundred and ten yang for three paintings, just as you agreed. I counted it to make sure."

Iseul couldn't hold back the small noise of satisfaction as he dropped the purse into her hands. She hadn't been sure if anyone would be interested in commissioning artwork, but Chin-hae told her that many people loved Hwa-jae's illustrations, so she had gone ahead and indicated (through the reluctant manservant, of course) to a few booksellers that original artwork could be available for a price. It was flattering to know that her work, no matter how distasteful it may be to some, was held in such high esteem by others that they were willing to pay dearly for it.

"Master Hwang says that the buyer might want to order more," he went on.

"Oh," she answered, "I hope so."


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_.

**Author's Note:** Belated Happy Valentine's Day! Hope everyone had a good one. And thank you very much to R Unworldly for all the reviews!

* * *

_Chapter Three_

_"Oi, Gu Yong-ha! Wait for us!"_

Yong-ha looked up at the sound of someone calling his name and, seeing his closest friends riding towards him, commanded his own horse (an exceptionally fine mount, with a coal-black coat to highlight any colors that its rider might choose to wear) to stop and let the others catch up with him.

"Geol-oh!" he hailed one of the riders. "I'm on my way to your house. Don't you remember that I was coming to visit today?"

"Of course I remember," replied Moon Jae-shin, known to their Sungkyunkwan University classmates as "Geol-oh," the crazy horse, as Lee Sun-joon rode up and greeted Yong-ha with a quiet nod. "But the boys were getting a little restless," Jae-shin added, "so I took them out to play."

A little face popped out from behind him. "Hello, Uncle Yong-ha!" called Moon Jin-young, the eldest of Jae-shin's children.

It was then that Yong-ha noticed that his friends were sharing their saddles with their sons, and that the entire group looked as though they had been rolling around in goodness knew what. Even Sun-joon's white scholar's garments were liberally smeared with dirt and grass stains.

"We were on our way back," Sun-joon explained. His own son, Hyun-seok, rode behind him. "Come, let's head over there together."

"And since you're coming with us," Jae-shin added, "you can share the burden." Urging his mount closer, he transferred his younger son, four-year-old Hak-young, from his lap to Yong-ha's.

Yong-ha and his new passenger looked at each other. The child was dirty and smelled of sweat and sunshine, but even the hardest of hearts couldn't resist the smile on his round, dimpled face. "I'd be delighted to," Yong-ha said, with just the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

The other man grinned, always glad to take down his fastidious friend a peg or two. "Good. Let's go."

Fortunately, they weren't far from the Moon residence, so it wasn't long before Yong-ha was able to put a little distance between himself and his odoriferous companions. They left their horses in the care of the grooms and made their way to the garden, where Jae-shin and Sun-joon's wives and daughters awaited them.

"Pretty uncle!" one-year-old Moon Chae-young crowed at the sight of Yong-ha, her little arms held out in welcome.

"Hello, my darling plum blossom!" he answered, scooping up the baby and bussing her noisily on the cheek. Unlike her brothers, she was fresh from her bath and thus much more pleasant to hold.

"Me!" demanded Lee Hyun-jung, tugging on "pretty uncle"'s mauve overcoat with impatient (but clean) fingers.

"And, of course, hello to you, too, my sweet little wren," Yong-ha said, sitting on the porch and gathering her into his arms to give her a kiss as well.

"Trust Yeo-rim sa-hyung to attract all the unmarried females the moment he steps into a room," Sun-joon teased.

Jae-shin shot his friend a scowl that would have been terrifying if Yong-ha didn't know that he was only joking. "I'll have to draw the line here, Yong-ha," he declared. "If you're in search of a wife, you had better go after someone closer to your age."

"Like one of these lovely ladies, perhaps?" Yong-ha suggested, holding out a hand towards the woman closest to him, who happened to be Jae-shin's wife, Cha Ka-hai.

"Someone closer to your age _and not already married_," Jae-shin amended, stalking over and taking her hand possessively. Sun-joon quickly hustled his own wife, Kim Yoon-hee, out of flirting range.

Ka-hai laughed up at her husband. "And what makes my lord think that I would ever think of trading him in for another husband? Especially," she added, with a teasing glance at Yong-ha, "one that looks like he might blow over in a strong wind?"

"You wound me, my lady," Yong-ha protested, placing his hand over his broken heart, a dramatic gesture spoiled by the two baby girls in his lap, engrossed in the string of beads hanging from his hat. "I'm just wiry, that's all."

She hummed skeptically and turned her attention to her sons, who flanked their father like miniature bodyguards. "Why don't you boys go and wash up?" she asked, her tone making it more a command than a suggestion. "And by 'boys,' I mean both the little and big ones."

"I'll need help washing up," Jae-shin said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively and tugging on his wife's hand, which he was still holding.

"Of course you will," Ka-hai agreed readily. "Boys, you heard your father. Help him wash up, and make sure he doesn't forget to wash behind his ears."

Yong-ha smiled as he watched Jae-shin send her a look that promised future retribution as their sons chortled about his dirty ears. Once upon a time, back when he thought that all girls were strange, silly creatures to be avoided at all cost, Yong-ha had harbored some special feelings for his brusque friend. He never confessed them, though, sensing that Jae-shin saw him as nothing more than an annoying boyhood companion, and took cold comfort in disguising his overtures as his own special kind of teasing. As the years passed, most of those feelings had gone away, but they remained fond memories and Yong-ha still couldn't help being extra concerned for his friend's welfare.

These days, however, he no longer had to keep as close an eye on Jae-shin. Although his friend had encountered some difficulties with his strong-willed wife in the beginning, he now seemed happy in his marriage. At least, Yong-ha thought as he watched the former object of his affections herd his sons into the house, Jae-shin seemed happy enough to try fathering enough children for his own jangchigi team.

* * *

After cleaning up, the men and boys rejoined everyone else, and the children spent some time playing with the grown-ups before it was time for them to eat and rest under the watchful eyes of their nursemaids. Although they were having a fine time showing off for their elders, they went willingly, probably in order to cause mischief a safe distance away from their parents.

"Next time," Yoon-hee teased her husband when the young ones were gone, "I shall ask Nurse Kang to bring extra clothes for you, too."

Sun-joon plucked self-consciously at his borrowed overcoat. Jae-shin had lent him one so that he wouldn't have to sit around in dirty clothing all night, and it was a bit too wide at the shoulders. "I didn't plan this. It just... happened."

"That's exactly what Hyun-seok said that time we found him and Jin-young all covered in mud," Ka-hai reminded Yoon-hee.

"Obviously, little boys don't change—they just grow older," the other woman chuckled. "We must tell Lady Cho-sun that. She should be warned now that she has a son."

"Thank you very much," their husbands said dryly.

"If the stains won't come out, just send it to the shop," Yong-ha said to Yoon-hee. "My laundress will take care of it. Why don't you tell us about the news at Sungkyunkwan? Has Professor Jung been confirmed as the new headmaster?"

Sun-joon nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Yes, he has. Headmaster Choi finally got a position with the new Ministry of Culture—just as he's about to retire," he snickered, a rare impish smile crossing his face.

The men and Yoon-hee laughed. Headmaster Choi had been in charge of Sungkyunkwan back when they had attended the university together. He was not an evil man, but it had to be admitted that he set a poor example for students who were preparing for careers as civil servants. His replacement, Professor Jung Yak-yong, was infinitely more qualified.

"We're very glad to have Professor—I mean, _Headmaster_ Jung in charge, of course," Sun-joon went on, "but it's also a pity that he's not directly involved in King Sun-jo's government. I'm sure Jeonha would benefit greatly from his guidance."

"Oh, he'll still get the opportunity to guide the king," Jae-shin said. "The Ministry won't stop consulting with him now that he's headmaster, especially not with a new king on the throne."

By "Ministry," Jae-shin did not mean the Ministry of War, where he had begun his civil career; rather, he referred to the Ministry of Justice, where he had transferred shortly after Hak-young's birth. The move made his father, Minister of Justice Moon Geun-soo, immensely proud, but father and son of course agreed that Jae-shin would start at an appropriate level and work his way up the ranks.

"Soon, you'll have to consult with the merchants and the laborers, too," Yong-ha boasted.

"Is the Joseon Chamber of Commerce coming together, then?" Yoon-hee asked, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, how exciting! You will lead it, won't you?"

"That's not for me to say," he said modestly. "We will choose our leaders as a group, and there will be more than one. I do hope to be one of them, though," he admitted.

"Who else is in the running?" Jae-shin asked.

"Some of the older merchants, of course," Yong-ha said, "but no one particularly important among them. I think my biggest competition would be Ma Ki-hoon, the wine merchant. A rather large group is backing him."

"Really?" Ka-hai grimaced. "I wonder how they can stand him when he's so disagreeable."

That grabbed her husband's attention. "Has he been rude to you?" Jae-shin demanded.

"No, not really," she assured him. "He just doesn't seem to be very nice to his customers, that's all; especially if they're only servants. If we could buy wine somewhere else that's closer to the house, I would do it in a heartbeat. I hope that you beat him, Yong-ha."

"Of course he will!" Yoon-hee declared. "Yeo-rim sa-hyung is an important merchant _and_ a Sungkyunkwan scholar. There's no one better suited to lead the Chamber of Commerce than him."

Yong-ha favored the women with a brilliant smile. "Ah, my dear ladies, where would I be without your faith in me? Why didn't you marry me instead?"

Predictably, his remark was met with unfriendly looks from their husbands, but surprisingly, it was Sun-joon who spoke. "They were doing you a favor, sa-hyung," he said. "It was to keep Geol-oh sa-hyung here from killing you."

* * *

The wine merchant, Ma Ki-hoon, was a skinny, middle-aged man with a face as sour as his disposition. The expression on his face was decidedly disagreeable when Iseul entered the Ma residence. "Oh, you're here," he said, with the enthusiasm of one discovering that he had stepped in something unpleasant.

Although she wasn't any more glad to see him, Iseul managed to maintain a more polite facade. "Good morning, Orabeonim," she greeted him with a bow. "Is Harabeonim in his study?"

"Where else would he be?" her older half-brother retorted. He jerked his head impatiently at the man by his side. "Take her to him, Master Jo. Get this over with."

"I'll see you later, Orabeonim!" Iseul said, bowing again at his retreating back.

He did not bother to reply, but the man in whose care she had been left had a much more pleasant personality. Master Jo was her grandfather's right hand, entrusted to assist him with business matters as well as manage the running of the household.

He greeted her with a bow of his balding head. "Welcome, agasshi. How was your journey here?"

"The same as always," Iseul replied. That meant she spent the entire time thinking about the kind of welcome she would receive, and resisting the temptation to just turn back and never darken the Mas' door again.

She never admitted that to anyone, of course, but Master Jo's smile suggested that he understood. "Come," he said. "I shall take you to the master."

Ma Byung-chul, the grandfather Iseul shared with her half-siblings, oversaw his business empire from one of the largest rooms near the front of the house. Unlike the other rooms, whose furniture could be folded up, moved aside or otherwise stowed away so that the rooms could be used for different purposes, this one was never disturbed except by Master Jo, who knew just how to clean it while still keeping his master's papers and writing implements arranged just so.

"Miss Kim Iseul to see you, master," Master Jo announced as he escorted Iseul into the study.

Master Ma, enthroned behind his desk, balefully eyed her from beneath shaggy gray eyebrows. "So, you've come back."

"Yes, Harabeonim." She sank to the floor on her hands and knees in a deep bow. "I come to visit you every month, remember?"

"Of course I remember," he snapped. "I'm not senile." There was a loud rustle as he thrust a sheaf of documents at Master Jo.

"I'm glad you continue to enjoy good health, Harabeonim," Iseul said, and held out the parcel she had brought with her. "I brought you some _yakgwa_. Halmeonim and I made them."

Master Ma grunted and motioned for Master Jo to take the biscuits as well. He shuffled some more papers as the servant took the package and withdrew respectfully. "Are you still teaching?" he barked after a pause that was probably meant to make her uncomfortable.

"Yes, Harabeonim." She mustered what she hoped was a cheerful smile. "It's going well, if I may say so myself."

"Bah!" he harrumphed. "A woman working—that's not respectable. You should be at home, taking care of a husband and children."

Iseul froze her smile in place and bit back a retort that she would be doing just that if the Mas had done their duty by her and found her a husband when she came of age. "There's still a chance that I might marry someday, Harabeonim," she told him sweetly, "but in the meantime, I already have a family to care for, and my work as a teacher is a very important part of that."

* * *

Visits to her father's family always left Iseul drained, and it was no different that afternoon, when she went to Gu Yong-ha's shop for their second meeting. Besides her grandmother, Iseul was accompanied that day by Han Chae-mi, her neighbor and good friend, but the other young woman's presence did little to lift her spirits.

"You could show a little more enthusiasm, you know," Chae-mi muttered to her as they escorted Madam Park down the street. "Gu Yong-ha doesn't take just anyone as a client, and I'll bet we're the first from our neighborhood to even set foot in his shop!"

"I know," Iseul replied in an equally low voice, glancing at her grandmother to check if the old woman had heard. (Fortunately, she was busy discussing the day's errands with Chin-hae, who was walking just behind them.) "I'm just tired."

The merchant welcomed them, even Chae-mi, with effusive greetings. "A good friend's opinion is always welcome in matters such as this," he said when Madam Park made the necessary introductions. "In fact, in the absence of a professional's opinion, it is useful to simply ask yourself, 'Will my friends laugh at me if I wear this?'"

Chae-mi beamed. "I'm sure your clothes will be beautiful," she said, "but I promise I'll tell Iseul honestly if she ever looks ridiculous."

Iseul began the meeting with a visit to the back room, where a female employee took her measurements. Then, Gu Yong-ha himself sat down with them to discuss styles and colors over tea and snacks. "Please don't be shocked, Halmeonim," he said, "but the most fashionable jeogoris end just below the armpit. They've been getting shorter and shorter for quite a while now."

"Oh, yes," Madam Park agreed mildly. "I noticed that myself before I lost my eyesight." She stopped short. "Women still wear bodices underneath, don't they?"

He chuckled. "Yes, they do," he replied. "Speaking of which, Teacher Kim, I think that we should make some bodices in colors other than white. White matches everything, but this is also an excellent opportunity to add something extra to your outfit."

Chae-mi nodded eagerly, hanging as she did on to the merchant's every word. "Doesn't that sound nice, Iseul?" she asked.

She nodded. "I think that it's a fine idea."

Yong-ha eyed his client uncertainly. Though he was pleased to hear her agree, because his more conservative clients wouldn't hear of calling attention to an undergarment that way, something had been off about her manner ever since she showed up that day. "Ah... and the skirts," he continued, "as you ladies may probably already know, are very full around the hips. They may be a bit wider than you remember them, Halmeonim, but I think that they give the wearer a graceful shape, like a bell."

"The bell shape is nice," Iseul said.

To be fair, she was clearly trying her best to take an interest in the discussion, but her clear lack of enthusiasm was nevertheless grating. "Is anything wrong, Teacher Kim?" Yong-ha finally asked, compelled to call her out on her odd behavior.

Her cheeks turned pink. "What? O-of course not," she answered with a brittle smile. "Nothing's wrong, sir. Please, do go on."

He didn't believe her for one minute, and it turned out, neither did her grandmother. "He did something, didn't he?" Madam Park asked Iseul, with a penetrating look in the younger woman's general direction.

Chae-mi gasped in shock. "No wonder you're acting so strangely!" she blurted out. Iseul, her face pink with mortification, tried in vain to discreetly shush her friend.

Yong-ha frowned. "_Who_ did something?" The awkward turn in the conversation clearly had his client at a loss, and ordinarily he would have tried to smooth things over as quickly as possible, but this sounded serious.

"I know that you went to see him today," Madam Park went on. "And I heard you and Chae-mi whispering on our way here."

"What did he do to you?" Chae-mi demanded, looking outraged.

"Nothing!" Iseul insisted. "He just... acted a little unpleasant, that's all. Can we forget about this, please?"

"That's not nothing," Yong-ha pointed out.

That earned him a faint scowl. "It's next to nothing, then," she said. "I'm sorry you had to hear about this, Master Gu, but really, it's nothing that anyone need worry about."

"On the contrary," he replied. "This sort of thing is a very serious concern. I did not know that something had happened to you on your way here, but I could tell that it had affected you in some way; and if a little unpleasantness was enough to change your behavior enough for a stranger to notice, what do you suppose would happen if someone did something more to you?

"I can create masterpieces for you to wear," Yong-ha lectured, "but they must be complemented with the proper bearing and demeanor. You will be doing my creations, and yourself, a grave injustice if you go around without an attitude to match." As if to demonstrate, he got to his feet and shuffled around the workroom, shoulders hunched and with a hangdog expression on his face.

Chae-mi laughed, but Iseul willed herself not to follow suit. He looked very funny, but she was also still annoyed at his prying. "I do not go around looking like that."

"Perhaps not," the merchant acknowledged, taking a seat once again, "but if I may be so bold, Teacher Kim, I can tell that you need to build your confidence." He leaned a sky-blue elbow on the low table, deftly avoiding a dish of candied plums. "Why don't I give you flirting lessons, along with your new clothes?"

"What?" She blinked and, realizing that he wasn't joking, laughed nervously. "Uh... I know that you are my grandmother's friend, but I don't know if that's proper—"

"Think of it as part of the service."

"That's a marvelous idea!" Chae-mi breathed.

Iseul turned to her grandmother. "Halmeonim—"

However, instead of being scandalized, the old woman actually nodded. "I think you should take Yong-ha up on his offer. You've been far too sheltered, child. Now that you're going to become a woman of some property, you should learn how to act around men for when the suitors come calling."

"There, you see?" Madam Park's partner in crime said triumphantly.

"But we don't even know if that's going to happen!" Iseul sputtered, her face on fire.

"Nevertheless, I think flirting is something that everyone should know how to do," Yong-ha told her, "and knowing that you can hold your own in mixed company should give you the confidence with which to show off my designs to their best advantage." He had the audacity to give her a little wink. "Trust me."

* * *

If anyone in Joseon was qualified to give lessons in flirting, it was Yong-ha, but a wise man knew that he did not know everything, and so he visited one of his old friends, the former gisaeng Won Cho-sun, to seek her advice and, at the same time, congratulate her on the recent birth of her son.

Even at the height of her career (and that was very high indeed), Cho-sun had never been too busy to entertain Yong-ha. They were never intimate in the way gisaengs and their clients sometimes are, but they built a close and lasting friendship because he had been quick to recognize her intelligence, and she knew that men who saw her as more than just a pretty face were few and far between.

His hostess received him in a salon in the house she shared with her husband, Ha In-soo, and their two children. In-soo was at work, but the children came out to greet the visitor and receive the presents he had brought for them. For the baby boy, there was a fine new blanket—Yong-ha's now-standard gift for new babies, because there suddenly seemed to be so many that needed presents these days—and for his older sister, some brightly painted wooden animals.

"It was nice of you to bring Mi-sook something as well," Cho-sun said after the niceties had been observed, and she and her guest settled down to talk. The boy had been taken back to his room for his afternoon nap, but the girl was allowed to stay behind and play quietly with her new toys.

"It was my pleasure," Yong-ha replied as they watched the toddler arrange the animals into a line.

She smiled, straightened the ribbon in her daughter's hair, and turned back to him. "Now, you said that you had something else that you wished to discuss with me?"

"Ah, yes." He paused, chuckling self-consciously. "Do you promise not to laugh?"

Cho-sun inclined her head, the gesture slow and stately as though she still wore a gisaeng's heavy gache instead of the simple chignon of a respectable woman. "Of course."

"I... I need some advice on how to flirt," he admitted, looking abashed. "I promised my new client that I would teach her."

True to her word, she did not laugh; but she did permit herself a smile. "Why do you need to ask me about this? Wouldn't you know best about what you want to see and hear from a woman?"

"I do, but I'm not teaching her to flirt with _me_!"

She arched an elegant eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No!" Yong-ha scoffed. "The woman is kin to a good friend of mine, a senior in the industry if you will, and I must give her the knowledge that will help her hold her own with any man who might cross her path. Her grandmother says she's come into an inheritance, and hopes to find a husband soon. If she is unprepared, she might end up making a poor choice. I can't have that on my conscience."

"Of course not," Cho-sun said, grave now instead of amused. She, of all people, knew how important it was for a woman to know how to take care of herself. "How can I help?"

"I'd like to know a little more about the other side of all of this. What do you, as a woman, think that other women should know when they set out to flirt with a man?"

She glanced at her daughter again. "I'll think about it," she said, "and I will let you know."

* * *

Iseul smiled in satisfaction as she blended red and orange together to add dimension to a flower petal. Painting always calmed her, and she needed it badly after the rigors of the day; and besides, it was nice to get a chance to paint what and how she wanted for a change. A nature vignette was hardly unconventional, but she did like to paint pretty things, and favored a palette more vivid than the muted browns, greens and grays used by the scholars and court painters. (That style looked clean and elegant, as well as conserved one's paint, but it hardly did justice to the richness of the subject.) There was something to be said about painting for the common people—at least the Hwa-jae commissions, and the orders she received from her students' parents for the lucky paintings called _minhwa_, gave her an opportunity to develop and showcase her personal style.

She dipped her thinnest brush into some black ink and started filling in the details of a butterfly's wing, wondering as she did so why her grandmother had agreed to Gu Yong-ha's suggestion of flirting lessons. Iseul could understand why Chae-mi would be so enthusiastic, but the idea of taking lessons from someone who was most likely to be a master at flirting, without knowing exactly what they would do...

"_Surely he won't make you do anything improper!" Chae-mi had said when they discussed the matter after returning from the merchant's shop. "And Halmeonim or one of your servants will be there to keep watch. This is very important for both of us, Iseul—I need to learn how to catch a man, too!"_

"_But the whole thing makes me feel so uncomfortable," Iseul replied. "And how would I do well if I flirt with a man I don't care about in the first place?"_

"_If it's that important to you, then maybe you could pretend you're flirting with that Master Bang you've been mooning over..."_

Iseul paused to dip her brush into the ink again, wiping the excess against the edge of the well in her inkstone. Yes, that was how she should approach these lessons. Besides their relative wealth, it seemed that Gu Yong-ha and Bang Jung-soo had very little else in common, but surely she would be able to learn something that would be useful in her plan to capture the true object of her affections.


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_. I must also admit that I named Yong-ha's sister-in-law after the new President of the Republic of Korea :)

**Technical Notes:** Haeju is a city in present-day North Korea, further up the coast from Seoul (but not as far north as Pyongyang). My understanding (admittedly based on a cursory online search) is that the place already had that name in the Joseon era. Also, a inorigae/i is an ornament fastened to a woman's hanbok, either on the jacket or skirt.

**Author's Note:** At long last (after a bit of a struggle to finish writing the last few scenes), here's the latest chapter of this fic. Hopefully the rest will be easier to write! Thank you very much to R Unworldly, CrimsonSnowScarletFate, and voodooqueen126 for your reviews!

* * *

_Chapter Four_

The consultation with Cho-sun promised to yield a fairly unique lesson plan, but to avoid shocking his neophyte pupil, Yong-ha decided to start with the basics. "We begin with the art of conversation," he announced at Iseul's next appointment, which also signalled the start of the flirting lessons. "There is no better way to engage a man's attention than with a scintillating exchange of ideas."

Her eyebrows rose at the word "scintillating." "Conversation about what?"

"Oh, about practically anything," he replied, shrugging. "But usually something that interests the man."

"Of course."

Madam Park, overseeing the lesson from a comfortable seat in one corner of the workroom, tutted disapprovingly at her granddaughter's dry remark. "Now, Iseul, you must address your teacher with the proper respect."

"Thank you, Halmeonim," Yong-ha said with great dignity.

The old woman gave him a cheeky smile. "After all," she added, "if all the gossip I've been hearing is correct, he is an expert in his field."

_Jung-soo. This is for Bang Jung-soo._ Iseul took a deep breath and pasted a pleasant expression on her face. "And what sort of subjects are interesting to men, seonsaengnim?"

"Well, we like to talk about horses and sport, to begin with," the merchant told her. "Of course, once you become better acquainted with someone, it becomes easier to find more specific topics of conversation. For instance..." His eye fell on the portfolio in her lap. "I, personally, am interested in the visual arts. If you were flirting with _me_, then you might try to start a conversation about the sketches that you said you brought for me to look at. May I see them?"

Iseul blushed self-consciously. Unlike the pieces she painted to order, the ones she had with her were more private works, her very own ideas executed in her personal style. "You might think they're silly," she demurred.

"A true gentleman would never think such a thing," the young man assured her. "Please, may I?"

Slowly, she handed over the paperboard folder, opening it so that he could take out the drawings inside. "I-I came up with a few ideas for my clothes after our last meeting," she explained as he leafed through them. "I thought about some things that might look good together, but I don't know how much it would cost, but..." She gestured ineffectually. "For whatever it's worth, there they are."

"These are _excellent_, Teacher Kim," Yong-ha praised her. The heads and hands of the figures were mere suggestions, but the clothing, complete with prints and embroidery designs, was meticulously rendered. "You have a very good eye for line and color. May I keep these?"

She looked pleased by the compliments, but the request brought her up short. "What are you going to do with them?"

"We will use them as a guide for your new clothes, of course," he explained with a patient smile. "We might not be able to copy everything exactly, but we will do what we can to match your drawings. The jewel tones you used here will complement your coloring very nicely."

"You really think they're good?"

"Yes," he assured her, "I think they are very good. I should have known that you had inherited some of your grandparents' talent."

"Oh." She laughed, and the expression quite transformed her whole face. "I don't really know about that. My grandparents were artists. I'm just a painting teacher."

"Iseul." Madam Park spoke up again from her corner. "When someone pays you a compliment, just say 'thank you.' It is one thing to be modest, but it is another to appear as though you have a poor opinion of yourself."

"Yes, Halmeonim." The young woman inclined her head, still smiling. "Thank you, sir."

"You are very welcome," Yong-ha replied, smiling back. "And may I suggest that you get used to receiving compliments—once I'm through with you, you won't be able to take five steps without someone telling you how good you look."

* * *

Despite the compliments on her work, the piecemeal first "lesson" left Iseul unsure whether she had learned anything, but whether she liked it or not, she got the opportunity to put whatever she might have learned into practice that very evening, during Jung-hwa's next painting lesson.

Whether it was because Iseul was being too transparent in her regard for Jung-soo, or because Jung-hwa decided on her own that it would be a good idea to try and pair her brother with her painting teacher, Iseul didn't know; but that night, her student was plainly bent on throwing the two together.

For one thing, she insisted that her brother attend her painting lesson with her. "You're going away again soon, Orabeoni," she explained. "You have to spend as much time as possible with me so I won't miss you so much while you're gone."

"Maybe I want you to miss me," Jung-soo teased her. "At least someone will."

"Of course I'll miss you, but do you also want me to be very sad even _before_ you've gone away?" She pouted prettily. It occurred to Iseul that Jung-hwa was probably giving her an excellent flirting demonstration, but she wanted Jung-soo to see her as a woman, not a younger sister.

Jung-hwa's approach seemed effective, however, because it didn't take him long to agree to stay. "As long as I don't have to do any painting," he said as he sat down opposite from Iseul.

His sister looked horrified. "Oh, but if you don't, you'll feel left out and we don't want that!" She pushed a blank sheet of paper towards him, and that took care of that protest.

After making sure that her brother was going to be occupied for a while, Jung-hwa announced that she had forgotten to do something important for their mother and left the room. Iseul stifled the impulse to beg the girl to stay and stole a sidelong glance at the other person left sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that Jung-soo was looking at her, too. "I hope you're not going to rate my efforts as well, Teacher Kim," he said with a teasing lift of his eyebrows.

"That's not what I'm being paid to do here," she blurted out and, fearing that she may have sounded waspish, scrambled to smooth things over. "So... don't worry."

Jung-soo gave a polite chuckle, but otherwise did not answer. Iseul cringed inwardly and tried again. "The-the agasshi said you were going away. Where will you be going?"

To her delight (and immense relief), the question earned her an easy smile. "Just to Haeju" was the reply. "I am going on a buying trip for my father."

"Master Bang is fortunate to have a son like you helping him," she ventured, hoping she didn't sound ridiculous.

"I do my best," he said, ducking his head modestly.

After another awkward, seemingly endless pause, she remembered to ask about the family business, and the conversation sputtered on in fits and starts until Jung-hwa made her return. "I'm back!" the girl chirped. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Of course not," her brother replied. "Teacher Kim and I were just waiting for you."

Iseul mustered a smile as he quickly (far too quickly, it seemed) turned his attention from her to his sister. Gu Yong-ha had made conversing seem so easy, but it was painfully clear, from the fact that her own feeble attempts had failed to capture Jung-soo's interest, that she still had much to learn.

* * *

The Joseon Chamber of Commerce held its first meeting one evening in Master Hwang's bookshop. Yong-ha was hard-pressed to hide his eager smile when he arrived to find the sizable front room practically full. Those present ran the gamut of the business sector: there were richly dressed merchants, laborers in unbleached cotton, ahjumma shopkeepers still wearing their aprons, and many others in between. He was not a dedicated scholar like Sun-joon or a civil servant like Jae-shin, but Yong-ha had spent enough time at Sungkyunkwan to appreciate the sight of many tradespeople showing interest in making Joseon a better place.

He was bowing politely to an acquaintance when he noticed Kim Iseul entering the bookshop. "Teacher Kim!" he greeted her. "Hello!"

She paused at the sound of her name, and smiled politely when she saw him. "Hello, Master Gu."

"Are you here for the meeting?"

To his surprise, she said that she was. "I thought it might be useful to listen to the discussion, since I am somewhat in trade," she explained. "After all, I do business with the parents of the children I teach, do I not?"

Yong-ha pondered this briefly. "I hadn't thought of it that way," he admitted, "but you're right. Your position as a teacher is unique, but you earn money for the work that you do."

His agreement was rewarded with a rare smile—and a priceless invitation. "My neighbors have invited me to sit with them," she volunteered then, and gestured to a group that had staked out a spot near the front of the room. "Would you like to join us?"

By now, the crowd had spilled out to the street outside. It would be foolish to refuse when he needed to be as close as possible to the action. "I believe I would, Teacher Kim. Thank you."

Iseul led him to a group of artisans of varying ages, all of whom greeted her warmly. "I hope it's all right if I invited Master Gu Yong-ha to sit with us," she told them diffidently. "It's crowded, and he didn't seem to have anyone to sit with."

"Of course he's welcome," said a wiry, gray-haired weaver. "Though I find it hard to believe that a social butterfly like him would not have anyone to sit with," he added with a teasing grin that revealed some of his missing teeth.

Yong-ha laughed. "Well, I am grateful to all of you for your hospitality," he responded easily as he sat down among them. "How are you, Master Shim?"

"Still recovering from the last time you bought silk from me, but I'll live." Chuckling, the old man took over the task of introducing him to the others. Yong-ha already knew some of them, while the others were easy enough to win over with his charm and witty banter.

"This is very exciting, is it not?" a shoemaker remarked, looking around eagerly.

"It is indeed, madam," Yong-ha agreed. "This is Joseon history in the making. I don't think we, the people, have ever done this sort of thing before."

"Oh, is that so?"

He nodded, spotting an opportunity to highlight his qualifications as a potential leader of the chamber of commerce. "The tradespeople have always had guilds," he explained, "but this type of arrangement is unprecedented. The Chamber of Commerce means that everyone, from the lowliest of laborers to the richest of merchants—and women as well as men—will have a say; and united, we will speak in a louder voice to the king."

"Master Gu was once a Sungkyunkwan scholar," Master Shim told the others, unwittingly helping Yong-ha's cause.

"I once entertained this notion of becoming a civil servant someday," the younger man confided, affecting a modest air, "but what could I do? Trade is in my blood. Still, the time I spent at Sungkyunkwan wasn't a complete loss. I learned about the law, and about how the government works—useful things for those of us who do business."

_And that is why you must all vote for me to lead this organization,_ he added silently just as Master Hwang, acting in his capacity as host, began to call the meeting to order.

* * *

"How did it go this afternoon?"

"I think things are off to a good start," Yong-ha replied as he picked up the bottle of dongjeongchun to pour his hyung a drink. They were sitting in An-jeong's rooms, sharing the day's news after the evening meal. "There seems to be a lot of interest in the Chamber of Commerce; Hwang's bookshop was packed."

"That's good." An-jeong nodded in thanks to his wife (whose name, Yong-ha learned for the thousandth time, was Geun-hye), who had just placed a few dishes of anju on the table, and took the liquor bottle to return the favor to his brother. "What did you talk about?"

"Not very much," he admitted. "It took a while for everyone to settle down, and the first thing on the agenda was to start choosing leaders."

"And everyone wants to be a leader," the older man concluded dryly.

"Well, a lot of people certainly had their own thoughts on who should lead the organization. After all, how many of them have ever had a chance to be heard?"

An-jeong shrugged, conceding the point, and helped himself to a dried anchovy. "So, whom have you chosen?"

"No one yet. They've only just put forth names for the members to consider." Yong-ha looked down at his cup and coughed delicately. "Mine... ah... mine was one of them."

"Really? That's wonderful." His brother grinned. "You didn't put your own name forward, did you?"

"_Hyung!"_ He shot a self-conscious glance at Geun-hye, who was sitting in the corner, but she didn't look up from her sewing. "Of course I didn't. One of the other merchants nominated me." To be honest, he had _almost_ done so, but was fortunately spared that task.

"Who else was nominated?"

"A few other merchants. I'm not worried about most of them. The real challenge, I think, will come from Ma Ki-hoon."

An-jeong nodded thoughtfully. "The Ma family is almost as important as ours; I can see how he could get a lot of votes. You'll need a sound plan if you want to beat him."

As the brothers began to discuss possible strategies to do just that, Yong-ha thought about his chief rival's conduct at the meeting. Ma Ki-hoon had sat and conversed almost exclusively with the wealthier merchants, and seemed ill at ease with the Chamber of Commerce members who were not of his own kind. Yong-ha made a note to try and capitalize on that.

Strangely, the wine merchant had also spent a lot of time looking disapprovingly in Yong-ha's direction. At first, Yong-ha believed this to be a sign that the other man felt threatened by him (and rightly so), but then he recalled Ki-hoon glaring at Iseul, too, on one or two occasions.

He sat bolt upright as a disconcerting thought occurred to him. _Could it be that Ma Ki-hoon was jealous?_

An-jeong stopped in mid-sentence. "Is anything wrong?" he asked. Even Geun-hye was looking at them inquiringly from her corner.

"N-no," Yong-ha answered, settling back down. "I just... remembered something that I had to do tomorrow, that's all."

* * *

The first thing that Iseul noticed when she visited the shop for her next "flirting lesson" was that her teacher seemed very distracted by something. She found it disgraceful from a professional standpoint, because it was the teacher's levels of preparation and engagement that set the tone for the lesson; but worse than that, his behavior was making her uncomfortable, for she had the nagging feeling that his distraction had to do with _her_.

"Do you need to review our lesson on conversation?" Yong-ha asked her. He was looking in her direction, but his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere to her right. It reminded Iseul of the way her grandmother looked at people, except that this man could probably spot a missing bead from a norigae a hundred paces away (and was, therefore, not at all blind).

"No, seonsaengnim," she answered. "I think I understand the principles of the lesson." She glanced away, cringing inwardly as she remembered the debacle with Bang Jung-soo. "I probably just need to practice."

By now, Iseul had spent enough time in Yong-ha's company to know that he was never at a loss for words, so she expected him to pontificate at length over the importance of practice and how she should do so. However, all he answered was, "Mmm."

She shot him an inquiring look, managing to catch him looking at her and sending his own gaze skittering away. Now his behavior reminded her of some of her previous male students, but they had been mere boys who were only just beginning to discover the opposite sex. Why would a grown man, especially one with Yong-ha's reputation as a smooth talker and popular with the ladies, be acting the same way?

"Is anything wrong, Master Gu?" Iseul finally asked.

"Of course not, Teacher Kim." The merchant checked the contents of his teacup with a disinterested air. "What could possibly be wrong?"

"I am sure that saying this isn't at all proper," she told him bluntly, "but you've been behaving strangely since we got here."

"Strangely?" demanded Madam Park, who was again present as chaperon. "How strangely? What are you doing with my granddaughter, Gu Yong-ha?"

"Nothing at all, Halmeonim," he assured her. "I've just had some weighty things on my mind. I didn't mean to offend."

At that, the old woman relaxed somewhat, but her expression remained faintly suspicious. "If you say so..."

Having averted that possible disaster, the merchant turned back to his student with a smile that seemed a little too bright. "Shall we move on to the next lesson, then?" he suggested briskly. "Did you bring a fan, as I asked?"

"Yes, I did," Iseul replied, producing one from the bundle at her side. "Though I don't understand why I would need one in this weather." As if on cue, a slight breeze blew, sending cold autumn air into the shop.

"Fans are for more than just keeping oneself cool," he told her as he withdrew his own fan from his russet-red sleeve. "You can also use them to let a person know that you're interested in him or her, even if you're standing clear across the room from each other."

"Really?" Iseul's grandmother asked.

"Oh, yes, Halmeonim," Yong-ha told her. "In the olden days, our ancestors used fans to send signals to each other on the battlefield, and now I hear that ladies in the West do the same to send, ah, not-so-secret messages to their suitors. I don't know what their signals are, exactly, but there's no reason why the women of Joseon can't have their own."

Iseul thought the idea was intriguing, but couldn't help remaining a skeptical. "Would a man really notice this sort of thing?"

"If he's the right man, he will. Now, shall we try some of them?" he asked and, when she assented, proceeded with his demonstration. The code used by Western women sounded far more advanced than the signals he had developed, he explained; but at the very least, a fan could be used to draw attention to one's eyes, face, or hands (making it imperative to take care of one's complexion, but that was for another lesson) or indicate whether they were disinterested or wanted to be kissed.

"It _is_ rather distracting," she remarked, partway through the lesson. Her face grew warm as she realized she had been staring.

She turned away abruptly, alerting Yong-ha to the fact that he had been tapping the folded fan against his lips—the signal for a kiss—for a little longer than he had intended. He promptly dropped the fan, clearing his throat and wondering what to say to salvage the situation.

Suddenly, there was a soft snore. The sound came from Madam Park, who had fallen asleep in her corner. Impulsively, he glanced at the woman's granddaughter, who looked amused at the sight. Their eyes met and they shared a quiet chuckle, both relieved that the tension was broken without any effort on either of their parts.

Yong-ha then decided to seize the opportunity and lay to rest what had been bothering him ever since the Chamber of Commerce meeting. "Teacher Kim," he began, "may I ask you a personal question?"

"I suppose that would depend on the question," she answered warily.

That did not sound like a guarantee that he would get an answer, but he forged on anyway. "I was just wondering... are you, by any chance, in some sort of relationship with Ma Ki-hoon, the wine merchant? I noticed him looking at us rather oddly yesterday, at the meeting," he explained quickly. "So I couldn't help but become a little curious.

"Please don't make that face," he advised when she shot him a revolted look. "At least, if you must, please do not so so in public. It's highly unattractive."

With some effort, Iseul did as he asked. "I do have a relationship with that man, but not the kind you're probably thinking," she told him. "Ma Ki-hoon is my half-brother, from my father's first wife."

"Oh." Yong-ha blinked. He had been rather fixated on the disturbing possibility that there was some kind of romance between her and the wine merchant, so this was unexpected. "I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sorry that I have a brother like him?"

"I meant that I'm sorry I misunderstood," he replied, and chuckled. "But you have my sympathies on that, if you want them."

Iseul tried (and failed) to suppress a snicker. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I have little to do with my father's family, but I don't regret it much." She glanced at her grandmother, who was still napping in her corner. "I'm more than happy with the family that I do have."

"Of course you are. The Kims might not be as wealthy as the Mas, but your grandparents are good people. Even I would be proud to be part of their family."

She smiled, pleased at the compliment to her grandparents. They might not have borne her, but they were the only parents she had ever known. "Thank you, seonsaengnim."

Yong-ha smiled back. "You're welcome," he said. "Now, shall we continue with our lesson?"


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_. Yong-ha's suggestion on where to wear perfume is a quote attributed to Coco Chanel.

**Technical Notes:** Most of the information on cosmetics in this chapter is based on my research on materials and methods used during the Joseon period. Further, Korean cosmetic culture reportedly includes the use of ornaments (binyeo and norigae) and not just makeup, so they are featured here as well.

**Author's Note:** Thank you very much to R Unworldly, voodooqueen126, and icklebrina for the reviews, and to those who have read and favorited/are following this story. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

* * *

_Chapter Five_

Iseul ducked her head, her cheeks aflame. She really had no idea how staring at Jung-soo was supposed to help, especially since Joseon garb left _everything_ to the imagination, but she still couldn't help doing so. He was back from his business trip to Haeju and his sister had again sweet-talked him into sitting in during her painting lesson, and Iseul had to grab every chance she could in case she saw something important. She fervently hoped he hadn't noticed her ogling him.

Of course, as luck would have it, the very next thing the young merchant did was to ask, "Are you all right, Teacher Kim?"

Jung-hwa's head shot up from the work that had, for once, been taking up all of her attention. "Something's wrong with seonsaengnim?" she demanded.

"No, no!" Iseul chirped with false cheer. "Nothing's wrong. I just have quite a few things on my mind, that's all."

"Well, it might help if you discussed your problems with someone," Jung-soo said with a friendly smile that seemed to indicate that he was willing to lend an ear.

Even a novice flirt would recognize that this was a prime opportunity to converse with him (perhaps even in private!), and she might have seized upon it under different circumstances. Unfortunately, in this case Iseul had no choice but to keep her troubles behind her teeth: Hwa-jae had just received an order with a special request that the painting feature an unclothed male. Given her limited knowledge of the subject, she was puzzling over how she might do some "research" to help her fill the order.

"It's nothing that won't take care of itself, Master Bang," she said. "Please, no one need worry about me."

"We can't help it, seonsaengnim," Jung-hwa told her matter-of-factly. "You're the best painting teacher that I've ever had. If you have problems and won't be able to teach me anymore, I'll be completely hopeless." She put down her paintbrush with a pout, the very picture of despair.

"I promise it won't come to that, agasshi," Iseul assured her.

"Nonetheless, Teacher Kim," Jung-soo said, "please know that you can always come to me if you ever need help. It's the least I can do after all you've done for my sister." The aforementioned sister nodded earnestly.

Iseul wondered how they would react if she asked him right then and there if he could take off all his clothes so that she could have a look at him, but quickly quelled the temptation to do so. Instead, she gave him a noncommittal smile and said, "Thank you, Master Bang. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

"How about this one, Abeonim? It's pretty, right?"

"Yes, but it's not quite what I'm looking for."

"Well, what _are_ you looking for? We must have looked at ten thousand different things already!"

"I'm hungry!"

"Can we have snacks at your shop, Uncle Yong-ha? We promise we won't make a mess like last time!"

Remembering the disaster that "last time" had been, Jae-shin shot his friend an embarrassed look. "We'll get something to eat on the way home, Jin-young."

"What are you talking about, Geol-oh?" Yong-ha said. "I ordered snacks for all of us as soon as Ga-rang told me about this visit." _And put the most expensive merchandise as far out of reach of children as I could get them,_ he added silently. "Of course you'll eat at my shop before you go home.

"Besides," he went on in a low voice, "at the rate our friend is going, he'll probably need to buy something from me just to get things over with. He's worse than the most indecisive ahjumma."

"I heard that, sa-hyung," Sun-joon said as he and his son inspected a set of ceramic cosmetic cases for sale at a nearby stall.

Just then, they heard a voice drawl, "Well, well... who do we have here?" The men turned to find Ha In-soo sauntering over to them. The plume on his hat fluttered gently in the breeze. "What a charming sight."

"Naturally," Yong-ha responded, preening as though he was the only source of charm in the immediate vicinity. "Good day, Officer Ha. Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Boys, make your greetings to your Uncle In-soo," Jae-shin ordered. The smirk he then gave his former partner contrasted nicely with his sons' polite bows. "Have you been demoted to patrolman?"

"If you must know," In-soo replied as he patted Hak-young on the head, "we're short-handed today and I volunteered to fill in." He arched an eyebrow at the little group. "Is it your turn to mind the children today, gentlemen?"

"If you must know," Yong-ha told him, mimicking the other man's lofty tone, "we're shopping."

"I'm not sure if that's any better than minding children."

"I wanted to buy a present for my wife," Sun-joon explained, "and I asked my seniors to come and help me choose something."

"And we're going to ask all the merchants to choose Uncle Yong-ha as their leader!" Hyun-seok piped up.

"Oh, that's right," In-soo said to Yong-ha, "you're in that chamber of commerce that the tradespeople have set up. When is the election?"

"In a few weeks," he answered.

The other man nodded. "Good luck."

In-soo stayed to chat a while, after which he took his leave to resume his duties. Miraculously—or perhaps because of Yong-ha's earlier comment about his indecisiveness—Sun-joon purchased a set of jeweled hairpins at the very next stall. Not to be outdone, Jae-shin impulsively selected for his own wife a silver hand mirror with a mountain scene etched into its back.

"Useful as well as pretty," Yong-ha observed with an approving nod. "Well done, Geol-oh. Apparently you have better luck choosing presents when you don't think too hard about them."

"Thank you," his friend replied dryly.

"Ahjusshi," Hyun-seok said to the man wrapping up the purchases, "will you vote for Uncle Yong-ha at your election?"

"Hyun-seok!" chorused Yong-ha and Sun-joon.

Fortunately, the shopkeeper only chuckled at the boy's forward behavior. "Don't worry, son," he replied. "Your uncle has my vote. He's the only one out of all of them who talks any sense."

"You're too kind, Master Ahn," Yong-ha said modestly. However, he couldn't help adding, "But, er, you wouldn't mind saying the same thing to anyone else who asks, would you?"

Master Ahn winked, being no stranger to the power of word-of-mouth marketing. "Consider it done."

* * *

Male voices and the laughter of children echoed down the normally quiet street as Iseul walked to Yong-ha's shop. Chin-hae, who was accompanying her, looked around in puzzlement. "Madam Ok's food stand must be doing very well," he remarked.

Moments later, they were surprised to discover that the noise was coming from within Yong-ha's shop. Masculine shadows were silhouetted against the rice paper walls and Iseul could hear feet pounding on the wooden floor.

The footsteps grew louder as a decidedly short shadow drew near. The door opened and a plump little boy peered outside, looking surprised when he saw her. "Uncle Yong-ha, there's a lady here!"

"Is there?" The child opened the door wider and Yong-ha's face popped into view. "So it is! Hello there, Teacher Kim!"

"Hello, Master Gu," she replied, and blushed when she saw the little group sitting around his low tea table, apparently in the middle of a gathering. "We, er, have an appointment...?"

"Ah, yes, of course!" the merchant said, seemingly unruffled despite the awkwardness of the situation. "You must forgive me, I spent the day with my friends and completely lost track of the time. May I introduce you to my guests? These are two of my dearest friends in the world, Lord Moon Jae-shin and Lord Lee Sun-joon, and their sons. Gentlemen, this is Kim Iseul, one of the finest painting teachers in Joseon."

One of the older children smiled at her, revealing a missing front tooth. "You're pretty."

"And you're too forward," one of the men chided the boy. It was plain, from the marked resemblance in their features, that they were father and son.

"He's just making up for his father's lack of charm," Yong-ha laughed.

"His mother thinks I'm charming enough."

The other guest, a bearded man in scholar's garb, quickly suppressed a smile. "I, ah, suppose we should start for home," he suggested. "If Yong-ha sa-hyung has an important appointment, then we must not keep him from it. Come, Hyun-seok."

Despite Iseul's offers to come back at another time, the guests corralled their sons and took their leave. "Think nothing of it!" Yong-ha assured her after they had gone and his servants, with Chin-hae's help, set about clearing the used dishes. "It was past time my friends went home anyway. Had they stayed any longer, their wives would have been too sleepy to be appropriately grateful for their presents.

"Besides, they can come and visit me again anytime," he added when she continued to hang back, and gestured towards the table, now set with fresh food and drink. "Please, sit and eat something while I prepare for our lesson."

Iseul obligingly picked up a rice cake filled with sweet bean paste. The morsel was delicious, and somehow helped her feel less terrible about intruding. As she ate, she watched the merchant bring out a parcel that made a most curious clinking sound. It wasn't until he removed its magenta silk wrapping to reveal a lacquered box with a mirror in its lid that she realized that the day's lesson would be about cosmetics.

"Confucius teaches us that rightness of character will manifest itself in a person's physical being," Yong-ha began as he unpacked an assortment of small porcelain containers from the box. "However, I don't see anything wrong with making oneself beautiful on the outside as well as on and the inside. Your physical appearance is what first catches the interest of a potential mate, while it is your character that will determine if you can hold his interest."

"You have a point, but..." She eyed the containers uncertainly. She kept herself clean and neat, and made sure to protect her skin from harsh wind and sun, but had never really tried to do more with her appearance. "You're not going to teach me how to make myself look like a gisaeng, are you?"

"Not at all!" he assured her. "Regular women paint their faces, too, but of course to a lesser degree. I will teach you to use these things to highlight your features while still retaining a natural appearance. As with all things related to beauty and good taste, balance is the key."

They began with the face powder. Unlike a gisaeng's all-white powder, this was applied only lightly and had ground clay mixed into it to allow the wearer's face to retain some color. Yong-ha said that he had had to guess at how much clay was needed to match Iseul's naturally pale skin, and was delighted when that the result suited her complexion perfectly. "You don't look sunburned, and you also don't look like a piece of ddeok," he said with satisfaction. "I guess I have an eye for these things."

Next, there was a small pot of fine soot. Mixed with oil from a small bottle, it was applied with a fine brush to emphasize and shape the eyebrows. Another pot contained powdered red safflower for rouging the cheeks. This was also mixed with oil to color the lips. It took Iseul a few tries to master the mixture and application of the cosmetics, but once she did, her own artistic skills enabled her to put them on with a subtle but effective hand.

"I can shade my face to make it look thinner," she laughed as she dabbed on a little more rouge just under her cheekbones. "It is literally painting!"

The merchant chuckled indulgently. "You can, but you must learn not to do it too much. Then you'll really look like a gisaeng."

After wiping away the excess rouge with a handkerchief, Iseul discovered that there was more. Another, larger bottle of oil was for keeping the hair sleek and shiny, and there was a pot of scented balm for moisturizing the face and hands. There were even a few hairpins and norigaes. Finally, there was a bottle of perfume.

"The selection of a perfume could be an entire lesson in itself," Yong-ha told her, "but learning how to wear it is easy enough. You must not, of course, douse yourself in it—a hint of scent is infinitely more tantalizing. And you must not put it on your clothes, because it might stain them beyond repair. Perfume is best worn on the skin."

She eased out the stopper and sniffed tentatively. The perfume smelled most strongly of flowers, but a hint of spice kept it from being cloying. "Where on the skin should I wear it?" she asked.

He pondered this for a moment, then grinned. "Wherever you might want to be kissed."

Iseul blinked, taken aback at the answer. "Wouldn't that taste bad?" she blurted out.

"I'm not saying you should put it on your lips!" he laughed. "There are other places a person can be kissed. You just have to use your imagination."

* * *

"Iseul? Iseul!" Chae-mi's voice broke into her thoughts. "_Ya!_ Are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am," she replied, even though that wasn't entirely true. "You were talking about how your father's apprentice has teeth like a horse."

"He does!" The other girl pouted and popped a blackberry into her mouth. A relative had sent them from the countryside, so Chae-mi brought some next door to share along with the earth-shaking news involving her father's apprentice. "And he smells like wet clay all the time. Worst of all, I don't think he even knows how to talk. I can't believe my father is thinking of marrying me off to a creature like that!"

"He's only thinking about it," Iseul pointed out. She tossed a berry into the air. Kyeo-ul, sitting at their feet, leapt up to catch it. "It's not a done deal yet."

"It's as good as done!"

_Then at least you won't need flirting lessons,_ Iseul wanted to say, then blushed as the memories of yesterday's lesson entered her mind for what must have been the thousandth time that day.

There really was nothing to be so upset about, she reminded herself. Gu Yong-ha was always saying outrageous things. She ought to be used to that by now, enough to not get affected—and especially not in _that_ way.

She had read and illustrated enough erotic texts to know the meaning behind that little tug and tingle she had felt deep inside when he told her where a woman should wear perfume. That was disturbing enough; what made things worse was that she continued to have that reaction whenever she thought about it. She had even done so during Bang Jung-hwa's painting lesson that afternoon. The girl's brother had put in another appearance, but rather than focus on winning Jung-soo's attentions, Iseul had wasted the opportunity and struggled not to think about Yong-ha instead.

"Get a hold of yourself!"

Chae-mi broke off in mid-sentence and even Kyeo-ul raised his head from her knee. Iseul realized that she had spoken aloud. "I'm sorry," she stammered, groping for words to explain without admitting that she had barely been listening. "That wasn't—I didn't mean—"

Fortunately, the other girl didn't seem angry. "No, you're right," Chae-mi said with a sigh. "You know my father—the more I fight this, the more Abeonim will insist on throwing us together. I should try to look at the good in all of this. Maybe this can be practice for when I meet someone I truly like! Like you and your flirting lessons!"

As her friend tried to paint her situation in the best possible light, Iseul did her best to take her own advice and calm down. Her reaction was perfectly normal, she told herself. After all, no one had ever said such things to her before.

Besides, she was also very caught up in thinking of ideas for Hwa-jae's latest order. It was making her very conscious of all the men around her, and therefore quite jumpy.

_Yes, that's it. And now I must stop thinking about that and start worrying about what's really important._

* * *

There was absolutely nothing for it.

Iseul didn't know anyone who might be able to answer some questions about the male form, let alone actually model for her. (For all his outrageousness, Gu Yong-ha was not an option at all.) She also could not ask Chin-hae to buy a book that she could use as a reference—the manservant was at enough risk, doing the work that he did on Hwa-jae's behalf, and it would embarrass both him and his wife if he were found out.

However, a book was her best hope, and so one morning she stole out of the house in her oldest hanbok, with a drab blue cloak concealing her face, and made her way to Master Hwang's bookshop.

It was easy enough to walk in and browse through the tamer selections along with the rest of the patrons. Perhaps she might even be able to move unobstrusively towards the back room, where books such as the ones Hwa-jae illustrated were sold. The real challenge lay in being lucky enough to procure the kind of book she needed without incident.

There were many books with illustrations of the female form. After all, most of the readers of erotic texts were men and that was what they wanted. Iseul had heard that there were some with illustrations of men, too, but because Hwa-jae had never received any orders for them, she didn't know of any titles or authors of such works.

She shook her head in annoyance. The next time this happened, she decided, she would turn down the order. Even though it meant doing without the commission, it could also help Hwa-jae develop a reputation for being exclusive and discriminating, and she might be able to raise her prices.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm. Iseul looked up, her cloak falling away, and her heart stopped when she saw that it was Yong-ha who had accosted her.

"Teacher Kim!" he hissed. "I am _shocked_!"


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_.

**Author's Note:** At loooooong last, here's the latest chapter! I'm so sorry the update took so long - I had a lot going on IRL that needed my attention. There's still a lot on my plate right now, but I'm still plugging away at this fic, so please continue to look out for it! Thank you very much to whimsicalnet, R Unworldly, voodooqueen126, Aurelia Roschelle, icklebrina, and Abbster13666 for the reviews, and to those who have read and favorited/are following this story. Happy weekend, everyone!

* * *

_Chapter Six_

"Wh-why are you shocked?" Iseul asked stupidly. Her cloak dropped from her nerveless fingers.

"Why wouldn't I be shocked when you are running around town dressed like _this_?" Yong-ha looked pointedly at the sleeve he held, then dropped it as though the worn and faded fabric had burned him.

"Oh. I-I... ah..." she stammered, groping for an excuse. Why would she be running around town dressed in old clothes? "I-I was helping with the house cleaning when I suddenly had to go out and run some errands!"

"Here in the bookshop?"

She nodded. "I've run out of interesting books to read," she told him, her belief that the excuse was partly true adding conviction to her words.

He inspected the nearest shelf. "I didn't know that you were interested in animal husbandry," he remarked, arching an elegant eyebrow.

"I, ah, didn't find anything I liked over there, near the front of the shop," she improvised, "so I thought I would look at the other sections." (Again, that was partly true!)

Suddenly, a middle-aged man in plain merchant's garb appeared in their aisle. He stopped short when he saw the pair standing there. Averting his gaze, the man peered at the books nearest him and, exclaiming in surprise over being in the wrong section, made a hasty exit.

Iseul seized the opportunity to look away from Yong-ha and busied herself with retrieving her cloak. "How did you know it was me?" she asked as she dusted it off.

"I didn't at first," he told her. "I just happened to notice what you were wearing, then saw to my horror that it was you."

She flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I would run into anyone I knew."

The merchant sighed, but instead of launching into a lecture on the horrors of being seen in public wearing old, ragged clothes, he said, "This is partly my fault. If I had just worked on your order faster, then you could have been wearing some of your new clothes by now."

"Please don't think that! We agreed that you could take your time with my order, remember? I take full responsibility for this. I could have worn something else, but I was, ah, very distracted with cleaning."

"Fortunately, the seamstresses are almost done with your test garments," Yong-ha said, sounding relieved at the thought. "You will have your fitting soon."

Iseul mumbled that she would be looking forward to it, apologized again, and quickly took her leave. She threw her cloak over her head to hide her face, still red from mortification. Clearly, the disguise was overdone, and she had had the ill luck to be seen in such a state by Gu Yong-ha, of all people!

Sighing, she consoled herself with the knowledge that he, at least, hadn't caused a scene. More importantly, he had caught her before she could reach the bookshop's restricted section. That would have been truly humiliating. He could have also told her grandmother, which would have made things even worse.

There was only one real drawback to the way the situation had turned out, but it was the most costly one of all: she was no nearer to getting the information she needed for Hwa-jae's latest commission.

* * *

The encounter left Yong-ha feeling similarly perturbed, although for vastly different reasons. He was still preoccupied with it the next day, when Cho-sun visited his shop to order some winter clothes.

Didn't the look of those old, worn clothes offend Iseul's artistic sensibilities? he wondered as he watched his old friend select trims for a winter cap. Couldn't the woman have stopped to change before going out?

"What do you think of this?" Cho-sun asked, laying a carved amber pendant and crimson tassel over the black brocade she had selected for her cap. "It looks just like a sunset, don't you think?"

"It's lovely," he agreed. He spoke without really looking, although it was a safe enough thing to say. Cho-sun's own taste in dress was exquisite.

"Although I like the sky blue tassel with the amber as well. Hmm..." She picked up the other tassel and laid it alongside the red one to compare the effect and Yong-ha went back to thinking about the incident in the bookshop.

Besides the horror of seeing his "student" dressed so poorly, he was also dealing with a healthy dose of guilt over his reaction to the sight. Although it was disappointing that she did not seem to be learning anything from their lessons, that was no reason to chastise her the way he had. Wearing old clothes wasn't a crime (even though he privately believed that it should be).

Just then, Cho-sun glanced up from her tassels and gave him an inquiring look. "Pardon my saying so, but you seem a little distracted," she observed gently. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes! Yes, everything's fine," he assured her with false cheer. "I was just thinking about all the things I need to attend to."

Then, with uncharacteristically poor timing, she asked, "How are your flirting lessons going?"

That promptly took the wind out of his sails. "All right, I guess. We've covered quite a bit of ground, but..." He shrugged morosely. "To be honest, I don't know if any of it is working. She's talking more, I think, but that seems to be the full extent of what she has learned."

"Well, that's a start, isn't it?" the former gisaeng pointed out. "Your student probably just needs more time to put everything into practice. Even though the late King Jeong-jo decreed that we now live in a new Joseon, it's still very difficult for a woman to act more confidently without being thought of as too forward.

"Or perhaps," she added pensively, "she isn't making as much progress because we haven't taught her things that she would actually find useful."

"But we were so careful to think of lessons that would be relevant in any situation," Yong-ha protested. "Conversation, personal grooming... how are these not useful?"

"Perhaps a, shall we say, more targeted approach is in order? Your student might need lessons on how to attract a particular kind of man. What kind of man does she like?"

He frowned, thinking hard. "I honestly don't know," he admitted finally. "I haven't heard anything from her or her grandmother, not about her liking anyone or any man paying court to her."

"Then perhaps you should ask her," she concluded, removing the blue tassel and nodding approvingly at her amber-and-red combination. "The beauty of these lessons is that, unlike those that you might study at Sungkyunkwan, they can be tailored to her needs, the way clothes can be tailored to a person."

"Yes, maybe I should," Yong-ha agreed, even though thinking more and more about the idea made him like it less and less.

As Cho-sun set about selecting trims for her daughter's cap, he thought uncharitably that he would not be surprised if Iseul's theoretical suitor turned out to be a dreadful bore. He would have to be, to fall for an impression such as the one Iseul had presented when she and Yong-ha first met, and might not fully appreciate the spirit that she now occasionally allowed to show. If that man, whoever he was, would not allow her to be truly herself, then the flirting lessons—and all of Yong-ha's hard work—would be wasted.

He sighed. Given his luck, before teaching her anything more about flirting, he would have to teach Iseul how to choose a man first.

* * *

As if his day weren't bad enough, Yong-ha arrived at home that evening to be informed that his father wanted to see him.

Ordinarily, he received such summons whenever he had done something stupid or, worse, costly. As he made his way to the study where Master Gu spent most of his time at home, he tried to recall whether he had done anything of the sort recently. To the best of his knowledge, he had not.

He rapped on the study door to announce his presence before entering. "I'm home, Abeonim," he greeted the older man, who was seated as usual behind a desk piled with papers. Yong-ha's hyung, seated in his own customary place at their father's right hand, gave him a smile of greeting.

Master Gu grunted and motioned for his younger son to sit down. Yong-ha did so, feeling very much like a criminal being brought to trial before the magistrate. An-jeong's smile had yielded no clues as to why they were having this meeting. "You, er, wanted to see me?" he began.

"I wouldn't have told the servants to tell you to come here if I didn't," his father pointed out, taking one last look at the document he had been reading and setting it aside. "Do you have any appointments tomorrow afternoon?"

He thought for a moment. "No, Abeonim. A client was supposed to come to the shop, but she canceled. Why do you ask?"

"I'm meeting with some of your uncles tomorrow afternoon. I suppose you would want to speak with them about this chamber of commerce business."

"I would very much like to." He bowed low to hide his excitement. Thus far, he had been campaigning mostly among his fellow merchants, the artisans, and the laborers they employed. He hadn't had much of a chance to plead his case with men of his father's level. "Thank you, Abeonim."

"Your brother suggested that it would be best for you to actually talk to them," Master Gu went on gruffly. "We've tried to explain why they should vote for you, but they're asking some rather difficult questions." He broke off and scowled at his younger son. "Close your mouth. You look like a fish."

Yong-ha blinked and struggled to regain his composure. "I-I was just surprised that you've been campaigning for me," he admitted, and bowed again. "Thank you both very much."

"We heard that Ma Ki-hoon was doing his best to win over the richest chungin," An-jeong told him with a grin. "Of course, we weren't going to take that lying down."

"I figured it would help to have a contact in that chamber of commerce thing, if it turns out to be useful," their father said, turning back to his documents. "You're not going to embarrass me in front of my friends, are you?"

"I won't, Abeonim, I promise," Yong-ha assured him. "I have very clear ideas of what I would like the chamber of commerce to do and how it can benefit everyone engaged in trade. I've discussed these plans many times, with many people in town. I think I'm quite prepared to face my uncles."

His father grunted and raised a skeptical eyebrow at that, but An-jeong was quick to smooth over the situation. "I don't think we have any cause to worry, Abeonim," he said, and chuckled. "You know what my brother is like when he wants something."

* * *

At their next meeting, Iseul was pleased to see Yong-ha in a much better mood. She had feared that the prospect of a fitting would remind him of what she had worn the last time they saw each other and make him angry all over again; instead, the merchant was his usual cheerful self, joking and paying outrageous compliments to her grandmother and Chae-mi, who was accompanying them that day.

"This is when the real fun begins," he announced when the niceties had been observed. "Although the test garments are not as finished as proper ones might be, they will give us an idea of what the finished product will look like on the body. We'll check the fit and make any adjustments, if necessary, to ensure that the finished product will be comfortable as well as flattering."

Once again, Iseul was taken to the back room, where a female servant helped her change into the "test" garments. The skirt and jeogori were made of unbleached cotton and lacked any sort of ornamentation, but their plainness only served to highlight their elegant cut, a testament to Yong-ha's masterful eye and the skill of his seamstresses.

As the daughter of a potter, Chae-mi could appreciate this as well. "Feel this, Halmeonim!" she said, guiding Madam Park's hand along the underside of one sleeve. "Isn't that a beautiful curve?"

"Very nice," the old woman agreed as her fingers traced the bold arch. "But how does it look, Iseul?"

"I think it looks just right, Halmeonim," her granddaughter assured her. The curve of the sleeve was more pronounced than what she was accustomed to wearing, but the proportions of the garment remained in balance. "Here, you can still feel my arm, can't you? The sleeve isn't too big. And the skirt is the same way. It flares very nicely—do you feel that?—but the shape still looks very natural."

Madam Park patted Iseul's hips. "Yes, it's not too wide," she said, nodding approvingly. "Now, what about the length of your jeogori? Is it not too short? Yong-ha said something about the new styles being very short."

She stiffened when her grandmother reached up to make sure that her bosom wasn't exposed. "No, Halmeonim. I'm still very properly covered."

Fitting the garments with a man in the room was highly embarrassing, but Yong-ha was apparently accustomed to observing—and participating in—such proceedings. Without showing the least bit of self-consciousness, he explained his design decisions to Iseul and her grandmother, and checked the fit with a critical eye. Fortunately, he didn't need to look at her _too_ closely and the only adjustment required was a minor one to the shoulders of the jeogori. Nevertheless, Iseul was relieved to be back in her old clothes and the women could then turn their attention to the more interesting business of choosing fabrics for the actual hanbok.

"We've set aside some possibilities based on Teacher Kim's drawings," Yong-ha told them as his staff brought out bolts of cloth in all sorts of intriguing colors, "but of course the final choice will be hers."

The younger women's eyes widened at the array. "They're all so beautiful," Chae-mi breathed.

"What colors are they?" Madam Park asked.

Iseul found her voice. "Red, Halmeonim...and orange and amber...and everything in between. The colors of fire."

He noted the faintest twitch in his client's fingers and smiled. "Please feel free to touch," he told her. "You will need to choose your fabrics for weight and texture, as well as color."

The ladies did not need to be told twice. After considerately making sure their hands were clean, they proceeded to test the fabrics to their hearts' content, oohing and aahing over the richness of the brocades, exclaiming over the delicacy of some of the silks, and presenting their favorites for Madam Park's consideration.

"Are there any that you particularly like?" Yong-ha asked after they had gone through most of the possibilities.

"This crimson silk with the pale bronze looks interesting," Iseul said, laying the bolts of fabric side by side before him. "What do you think?"

"Very distinctive," he said, nodding approvingly. "Anything else?"

She hesitated. "Well... I think one fancy hanbok in silk will do for now. However, I want to order a few things made of sturdier material, especially now that the weather has turned. Could I wear some of these for every day?"

"Every day?" Yong-ha repeated, his heart sinking at the thought of his creations being worn to scrub floors and clean house. He still had nightmares about her dressed as she had been at Hwang's, but this was taking things a bit too far in the other direction!

Fortunately, Madam Park was quick to clarify matters. "'Every day' means when she gives her painting lessons," the old woman explained. "Iseul needs to look her best when she goes to the chungins' homes to teach. Her good clothes see quite a bit of use."

"Ah, of course!" he said, brightening again. "Well, for colder weather, you will naturally need heavier material, such as brocade or satin, for your clothes. And, if I may suggest, perhaps some darker—but still rich—colors?"

That led to even more bolts of cloth being brought out for consideration. Although she remained drawn to warm reds and oranges for some very personal reasons, Iseul couldn't help but delight in the jewel tones of blue, green, and purple. After much deliberation, she chose two brocades (plum and deep jade) for skirts, and a heavy silk (deep blue) for a jeogori.

"They're not too dark, are they?" Madam Park asked. "I wouldn't want Iseul to wear very dark colors. She is still quite young."

"They're not too dark, Halmeonim," Chae-mi told her. "They're beautiful! And what's even better is that they also go well with the silks that she ordered earlier."

"Yes, please don't worry, Halmeonim," Yong-ha added. "The colors are a little muted, which is appropriate for the attire of a teacher, but still very fashionable."

Iseul left them to reassure her grandmother and gazed out the nearest window, which had been left open to let in fresh air. She had enjoyed the fitting and fabric selection very much, but now the distraction was gone and she was back to worrying about her continued lack of inspiration for Hwa-jae's latest commission.

She was highly tempted to turn down the order, even at this late date. It would be a blow to her pride as well as to her purse, but she also hated the idea of producing a low-quality (and possibly also completely inaccurate) painting just for the money. Hwa-jae's reputation would be ruined.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside. A crowd of people was moving slowly down the street, egging on a pair of laborers who towed a heavily laden cart in the place of oxen. There was a shout as a wheel got stuck in a rut, forcing one man to push the cart from behind while his partner continued to pull.

Through a gap in the throng, Iseul glimpsed the man working on the front of the cart. He wasn't tall, handsome, or particularly clean, but it was clear that he was very strong. The ropes of muscle in his arms, bare despite the cold, stood out in stark relief as he strained to pull the cart free.

She studied the lines of the laborer's arm, thinking that it would be something interesting to sketch later, when the limb in her imagination wrapped itself around something—something softer and more rounded, for contrast...

Her breath caught as she realized that Hwa-jae could fill that problematic order with a painting of a lovers' embrace. It would be a clever way of hiding the male figure; in fact, wouldn't it be interesting if the female figure were more prominently positioned?

It took a while for the voices to filter into her thoughts. "Teacher Kim?" "_Ya_, Iseul-ah!" "What's going on?"

She blinked and realized that the others in the room were looking at her quizzically. "Is everything all right, dear?" her grandmother asked, brow furrowed with concern as she gazed in her general direction.

"Oh, yes, Halmeonim!" she replied, feeling her face grow warm. "I was just, ah, lost in thought for a while."

"You were so lost that we weren't sure if we would ever find you again!" her friend teased.

Yong-ha watched Iseul drop her gaze with an embarrassed little laugh, but said nothing. The unfocused look in her eyes, delicate blush, and softness around her mouth... he had seen that expression before, but never on a woman who lived a chaste existence with her blind grandmother and needed lessons to even look a man in the eye.

He glanced at her one last time before turning to a waiting servant with a request to clear away the fabrics excluded from Iseul's order. If he didn't know her better, he would think that she had been lost in some very naughty thoughts.


End file.
